Two Lost Souls
by ILoveWriting1121
Summary: As Bucky is roaming around DC, homeless, he meets a kid named Maggie. She's only 12 years old, barely five foot, and doesn't weigh 100 lbs soaking wet. The two of them are a couple of lost souls just trying to get by, but they find something in each other that they haven't felt in a long time.
1. Chapter 1

Again? America had no respect or sympathy for the homeless, even a 12-year-old white kid like Maggie. She thought stuff like this only happened to people of color, not that that was a good thing, but if you were homeless, it didn't matter what you looked like or how old you were; the cops were all jerks. Apparently she'd ended up settling down in a "no loitering" area, and someone reported her, so once again she was evading a cop who'd had a few too many donuts. She hated running from trouble, but if she got caught, they'd probably call her father. She mentally shuddered at the thought. Her father was an abusive drunk so she ran away from home almost a year ago, and the last thing she wanted to happen was to go back. Homeless shelters weren't bad places to go, but only if she wanted a meal; they closed every night and kicked everyone out. School was out of the question, because someone could start asking questions and tell her father, but thankfully it was currently summer break so she didn't have to go.

Ducking into an alley, she was able to get away from the police officer by crawling behind a dumpster. She clutched her backpack close to her chest while the shadows of the people chasing her danced beneath her hiding place. The bag, sporting a picture of Captain America's shield, held all the things she had: a change of clothes, a small blanket, a flashlight, a small water bottle, and the 5 comic books she could not live without. She would have brought her favorite stuffed teddy bear, but it wouldn't fit in the bag and may have only gotten in the way. The first few times she had to sleep without it were really hard, but she made due and got past it. What helped her get past the absence of her bear was the picture she had of her and her mom.

It was barely 3 years old, but so much had happened since then. Her mother died in combat in Afghanistan a year and a half ago, and that's when everything went downhill: her dad started drinking and subsequently started abusing her, her grades dropped, and that's when she ran away. Once her pursuers left, she peeked from her hiding place, but settled in to rest. Pulling the picture from her bag, she stared wistfully at the image of her mother lovingly hanging over her shoulder, hugging her, big grins on their faces.

They were so happy in that picture, so normal, but Maggie knew it wasn't like that. Her mom made frequent trips to the local VA office for group therapy, sometimes even having to take Maggie with her. The guy who ran the session, Sam, became a good family friend and even came to one "Grandparents/Special Friends Day" at Maggie's school. Then, her mom went over for her second tour, just after the picture was taken. Maggie clearly remembered the day her mom left. She gave her mother a big hug, not wanting to let go, tears running down her face. "Be a big girl for daddy, okay?" Her mother said, to which Maggie just nodded and hugged her tighter. That was the last time she saw her mother. Thinking about that made her start crying, but she shook her head and wiped her tears away. It was getting dark and judging by the clouds overhead, it was going to rain, so she had to find shelter. Putting the picture back in her bag, she stood up and carefully walked out of the alley, so to not attract attention to herself.

Sure enough, it started to rain, and Maggie got caught in it, scrambling to find somewhere to stay dry amidst the downpour. Rain and nighttime weren't bad separately, but together, they were the bane of her existence. She could barely see in front of her nose, and the few streetlamps that were there didn't help because the rain absorbed all the light. DC at night was a bad place to be, especially in the area she was, but most people didn't pay much mind to a little white girl with a backpack. Once she was mugged, but the attacker saw the useless stuff in her backpack and just let her go. Not even the gangs paid her any mind since she didn't pose a threat to their territory and kept her nose out of business that wasn't hers. As previously said, she was just a little white girl with a backpack.

Faces flashed across the soldier's mind behind closed eyes the voices along with the saying:

_"Bucky, no!"_

_"Put him on ice."_

_"Wipe him and start over."_

_"Bucky?"_

_"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes."_

_"I'm not gonna fight you."_

_"I'm with you to the end of the line."_

With a gasp, he sat up, sweat drenching his forehead. Another night with those damn visions again. Ever since he'd escaped HYDRA, James, as he'd gone to calling himself, had been getting memories from his life flooding back into his mind like broken up film clips. He knew there was a lot missing, but wasn't sure just how much was a lot. If what he saw at the museum exhibit was correct, it was more than seventy years' worth of memories that he probably was better off not knowing. All that mattered to him was what happened before he supposedly died and the past few months.

He looked out the broken window of the abandoned apartment building he was in and saw that, though the rain from last night stopped, it was still pretty cloudy and would most likely rain again. He could also tell because the stump that connects his shoulder to the mechanical arm was slightly achy and usually got that way before it rained. After stretching his back out and letting it crack a few times (Jesus, he knew he was old in years, but physically couldn't have been more than thirty…though in hindsight a mattress he fished from a dumpster wasn't exactly a plush feather bed), he got up and left to go around the city.

His normal routine was to find food, evade whomever he had to shoplift it from, mosey around to avoid unwanted attention, repeat. That morning started out no differently. He snuck a roll from a hotdog cart, stealthily putting it in his pocket and walking away before the owner noticed, but someone else did.

"Hey! Put that back!" Some damn tourist shouted, alerting the cart owner to the theft.

Luckily the man just shrugged. "If I didn't sell it, I would've given it to a food bank."

James nodded in thanks and munched on it as he walked away. Unfortunately, tourists and commuters weren't the only ones on the streets that morning and he felt a hand grip his shoulder. "Come quietly, or we start firing on the crowd." The hand's owner whispered in his ear. The person led him away, to a more empty part of town. James had no intention of coming quietly, especially when he saw the man in the skull mask that had been stalking him since he got away from HYRDA. As soon as there were no pedestrians for them to shoot, he elbowed the person leading him in the face and bolted in the other direction.

_"Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!"_ He cursed to himself as he ran from the assailants. There was no way he could outrun the four of them, so he decided to fight, but on his terms. An upcoming alley looked promising, so he quickly ducked into it and caught his breath in preparation to fight.


	2. Thunder and Lightning

The next morning, Maggie found herself waking up behind another dumpster, her clothes and hair completely soaked. On the bright side, it was probably the cleanest she'd been in months, excluding the fact that she was on the ground behind a dumpster. After stopping at a local Chinese restaurant so she could use the bathroom to change into her dry clothes and get a plastic bag for the wet ones, she went to a soup kitchen to get something to eat, then she settled in another alley where no one else was staying to relax. It was a little wet there, but she was still a little wet so it didn't really matter. Luckily, the contents in her backpack managed to stay dry, thanks to the plastic bag; she was especially worried about her comic books.

She was about to pull one out to read, when some guy ran into the alley. He was big, not too tall – though he wasn't short either – but also looked kind of buff underneath the t-shirt, jeans, and hoodie. He didn't appear to have seen her, since she'd crawled behind a line of garbage cans the second she saw him approach, but she clearly saw him. It was obvious he'd been running from someone or something; how out of breath he was, the frantic look in his eyes, and the search for a way to escape – which that alley didn't have. It was all too familiar to her. For a moment, it seemed like he'd evaded his pursuers, but then 4 men dressed like G.I. Joe drenched in black paint shuffled after the first guy. "Come quietly, soldier." One of the Joes, the one wearing a skull-like mask, ordered the first guy, gun raised and aimed. The first guy, "soldier," just glared at him as the other 3 Joes crept in closer. One reached out, thinking the soldier would obey the one Maggie assumed was the leader's order, but soldier lashed out and elbowed him in the face, making all hell break loose. Two of the others started firing their gun, but soldier easily dodged them, taking out each one with his bare hands.

Maggie was so fixed on the action in front of her, she didn't notice the guy in the mask creeping towards her. It wasn't until the soldier threw one of the guys against the dumpster that she was made aware of his presence. She screamed and scurried out the other side, only to have the first guy snatch her up by the waist and start running down the street. "Hey!" She shouted and started squirming in his grasp.

"Shut up and hold still." He quickly answered. She had no choice but to obey, and stayed quiet as he sprinted away from the attackers. When they reached a metro station, there was a big enough crowd that the guy put her down and took her hand to drag through it. He looked back a few times to see if the other guys were still on their tail before slipping out of the crowd, dragging Maggie along with him, and going back into the city.

After running for a few more blocks, he stopped in yet another alley and sat down against the wall, a sigh of relief escaping him. Maggie didn't sit, not wanting to get too close to this guy who was easily twice her size. "You been eating enough, kid?" He asked casually. "You can't way 100 pounds soaking wet."

"I was hiding behind a dumpster, what do you think?" She retorted.

"Point taken." He looked at her. "You can sit down if you want."

"Who were those guys, and why were they chasing you?" She demanded, ignoring his offer.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"…fine…" She conceded and sat down. "So, do you have a name?"

He paused for a second. As she watched him think, it looked like he was trying to remember, like he'd been asking himself that question for a long time. Then, still staring at his hands, said, "James, I'm James."

"You don't sound so sure…" she commented suspiciously.

"It's a long story, and I said I don't want to talk about it." He looked up at her, annoyed. "What about you?"

"My name's Maggie." She answered. "Nice to meet you…I think…"

He nodded. "So why were you behind that dumpster? And where are your parents?"

"I couldn't care less where my dad is right now, and my mom…" she sighed, "died last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"So what's your story?" She asked.

"I said I don't want to talk about it." He snapped.

"No, you said you didn't want to talk about why those guys were chasing you." She sassed, making him grumble in annoyance, then sigh and lean his head back against the wall.

"To be honest, I don't know the whole story."

"So you've got amnesia? That's so cool!" She said, her eyes lighting up a bit, then she got serious again. "Um, I mean, that's really sad, I'm sorry. I just meant if you're homeless too…"

"More or less…"

"Well…" She thought for a second. "Maybe you were in the army, since that one guy called you 'soldier' and you could kick some serious butt, and maybe you lost your memories n combat." She saw him tense, like she'd triggered a bad memory or something. "Okay, I'll stop prying…"

"Thanks." He sighed and pulled a half-eaten roll out of his pocket. "Hungry?"

"No thanks, I'm good." She shook her head, and he just shrugged and took a bite. As they sat there, the only sound between them was him eating the bread, it started to rain again. "We'd better find shelter."

"Good luck." He said and stood up, starting to walk away.

"Wait, where are you going?" She asked and followed after him.

"I'm getting out of the rain and you should too, like you said."

"So you're going to leave? But those guys might come back."

"They're after me, not you."

"But who's an easier target: a big guy who can kick butt like you, or a skinny little kid living on the street?"

He stopped and didn't say anything for a second, then reached for her hood and put it over her head. "I've got a place set up in an abandoned building about half-way across town from here. Think you can make the trek?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?" She answered and went up next to him. This was great, now people wouldn't try to mess with her since she's got a big muscly guy with her, and it'll look less suspicious than a little kid walking around by herself.

James was right, it was a pretty long hike, but they made it to what looked like an old apartment building. The windows were either broken out or boarded up, the walls were covered in vines and looked like they could crumble at any second. "Don't worry, it's stable enough and I'm set up on the bottom floor." He said and led her inside to a room with a rundown mattress on the floor, a torn up couch and random things she assumed he'd collected over time.

She stepped in farther while he sprawled himself on what was left of the couch with a drawn out grunt. "Nice place…"

"It's shelter."

"True." She said and sat down next to him, keeping her backpack with her.

"What've you got in there?" James asked, looking at her out of the side of his eye.

"Just some basic stuff I took when I left home." She shrugged and listed the contents. "I just wish I could've brought all my comic books with me, it was really hard picking which ones to bring."

"What comics?" He asked, amusement and curiosity laced in his voice.

"Captain America." She said casually, and he suddenly seemed much more interested. "I have every single issue of the Captain America comics, even from the 1940's."

"That's pretty impressive…"

"Thanks," she said proudly, "I'm a huge nerd when it comes to Captain America, I've even seen all his movies and have all the trading cards. But it's funny, all the ones I brought with me except the one with the Avengers have his friend Bucky in them."

He looked at her with more than just simple curiosity. "His friend Bucky?"

"Yeah…" She said and scooted away from him a bit.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Well, he was Steve – er – Captain America's best friend since they were kids, was his second-in-command on the Howling Commandos, and died on a mission in the Alps not long before Steve got frozen in the ice."

He sighed, disappointedly. "Is that it?"

"Well no." She pulled out one of the comics. "This is my favorite one. It's where Bucky has to do a mission by himself because it's something Steve would never do and that's basically his whole thing. He does the dirty work that Steve can't because he's the perfect American hero. He also taught Steve how to shoot a gun more than what basic training taught him, and that his body was never found." James nodded and sat back, content with her answer. "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"No reason." He answered and closed his eyes.

"Bull." She muttered and put the comic book back in the bag.

"Hm?" He opened one eye.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want, I'm not talking about it."

"That's not fair. I've told you about me, but haven't told me anything about you."

"Life's not fair, kid. Get used to it."

"You're a jerk." She said and hit him with the bag.

"Well you're a little punk." He grabbed it and held it out to the side while his left hand kept her from moving to get it. After about a minute of the fruitless endeavor, she gave up and sat back on the couch with a disgruntled huff, her arms crossed. Then, as the rain outside went from just a sprinkle to a drizzle, some thunder rumbled through the air, making her jump a little bit.

"Scared of thunder?" He chuckled and handed the backpack back to her.

"No!" She snapped and snatched it from him. "It just startled me, that's all." But then, a flash of lightening lit up the darkening sky, and she jumped again, letting out a little squeak.

"Liar." He said and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"I'm normally okay, but this is my first thunderstorm without my Bucky Bear."

"You're what?"

"…it's a teddy bear dressed like Bucky." She admitted, blushing a little, and he couldn't hold back a chortle.

"You're like 11 and you need a stuffed animal to hold in a thunderstorm?"

"My mom always said that there was no shame in having something to help you get through something you're afraid of." She protested. "And I'm 12!" As she said that, there was another couplet of thunder and lightening, making her curl up on the couch, wishing she could shrivel up and sink into the cushion.

"Hey, it's alright." He said and put an arm on her shoulder and when he felt how much she was shaking, cringed slightly. "This is a real problem for you, isn't it?"

"Mhm." She nodded into her knees.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm right here." He put his arm over her shoulders and she couldn't stop herself from holding tightly onto him. It was odd how comforting it felt with him holding on to her, and the shaking started to lessen until the thunder and lightning sounded again.

James looked down at the girl who was wrapped around him like a belt. He thought he'd have no idea how to comfort her, but it felt so natural, like he'd done it before. Maybe the man who called him James…no that couldn't be right. This kid was tiny, the size of a sapling, and that man was at least six foot. But he also got images in his head of the man looking about the kid's size, if a bit taller, but how was that possible? Sure someone could bulk up from working out, but he would've had to grow at least another half a foot.

The storm let up after a few minutes and she loosened her grip on his waist. "You know, it's getting kinda dark," James said, managing to pull the little girl's arms off him so he could stand up. "Why don't we turn in? You can sleep on the couch if you want."

Feeling a bit disappointed at being pried off from her new protector, she simply nodded and pulled the blanket from her backpack as he laid down on the mattress. Using the bag as a pillow, she curled up on the couch and closed her eyes, still shaking a bit as thunder softly rolled through the air with less ferocity than before. James looked over at her for a minute, to make sure she was comfortable, before closing his eyes and letting his body relax and fall asleep.


	3. Training

That night, Maggie slept the best that she had in months, considering it was the first time since running away that her bed didn't consist of concrete and her backpack. That being said, she was still wary of her new companion and stayed on edge in case he decided to attack her. At about midnight, she heard him starting to stir and opened an eye to see what was wrong. He'd sat up, panting a bit, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked over at her. She tensed, hoping he wouldn't prove her suspicions if he thought she was still asleep.

"Sorry for waking you up." He said and she relaxed slightly, giving a sift sigh of relief.

"It's okay. Is something wrong?"

He just shook his head. "I'm fine, go back to sleep."

But she didn't. She stayed awake for a bit, watching him curiously. There was obviously something wrong and she had a feeling she knew what it was. "Is it because of those guys?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it. Now go back to sleep." He grouched.

"Well I can't sleep now that I'm awake."

"I said I don't want to talk about it, so we're not going to talk about it." He snapped, making her shrink back a bit. The last time a father figure yelled at her, she got out of the altercation with more than a few bruises. Seeing her reaction, he softened his voice a bit. "Listen, I won't ask why you hate your dad, so don't ask me about…anything. You'll probably just end up hating me if I told you. Good night." With that he laid back down and covered his eyes with his arm.

"I'd probably hate you more if you kept yelling at me." She muttered and rolled over so her back was to him.

"I wouldn't have to yell if you just left it alone."

"I could leave it alone if you told me."

He was silent for a second, and she waited for him to reply, but all he said was "Good night." and dropped the topic.

"Big jerk." She muttered.

"Little punk." Was his reply, but that was the end of the discussion, and Maggie soon fell back to sleep for a few more hours, before she heard him stir again, but did her best to hide that he'd woken her up to avoid a repeat of what happened earlier

The only reason that she could think of why he would be waking up like that was because of some sort of nightmares. It happened to her mom a lot after she came home from her first tour. Maggie would often hear her mother shuffling around the house late at night (or early in the morning, as the case may have been), and would sometimes get up and ask what was wrong. The same thing happened with her mom: she avoided answering and just instructed Maggie to go back to bed. It wasn't until she started going to therapy that she opened up a bit more (Sam had told her that it was healthy to talk more about it than shut people out). She thought that maybe Sam could help James, like he'd helped her mom, but she had no way to contact him. Grumbling at her lack of a solution, she decided to leave it alone for now, since it was so late, and just go back to sleep.

Jesus, of all the homeless kids on the street, he managed to run into the most inquisitive of them! It was obvious to him that she knew what he was going through, and that he couldn't hide it for much longer. But she was a Captain America fan, and if she knew he was Bucky, but working for Hydra, she'd probably hate him, and he didn't want that. She was the first person to remotely want anything to do with him; stupid kid. But it couldn't be helped. He had to play the papa bear role for now, even though he had no idea what the hell to do. She was obviously self-sufficient enough to handle her own and get away from danger, but her head was in the clouds and she was the size of a toothpick.

His mind went back to something she'd said that day: "Those guys might come back." And she was right. Damn Hydra wouldn't leave him alone, and now that she'd been seen with him, she could be a target too; an easier target. A fierce protectiveness came over him when he thought about Hydra attacking her; something strange to him. Why did he feel such a strong need to keep her safe? The image of the scrawny for from his past flashed across his mind again, going back and forth from Maggie to him. Groaning, he turned over, not aware that he may have woken her up again. Even if he did, she didn't say anything, so he just went back to sleep, deciding that he'd teach her a few way to defend herself the next morning.

Maggie woke up the next morning when she felt a gentle hand on her forehead. Opening her eyes slowly, her vision cleared to show her new friend with a soft smile on his face. Out of pure instinct, she recoiled, fearing the worst, but the startled and slightly hurt look on his face told her that she wasn't in any immediate danger. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to wake you up…" He said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh…it's okay…" she relaxed a bit.

He understood why she was so jumpy around him; it was hard to trust people when you never know who wants to use you for their own reasons, especially for a girl at her age. "I want to teach you a few things, in case those guys try to attack us again."

"Like what?" She said and stretched.

"Like how to get away if one of them grabs you."

"Okay, cool." She stood up. "Are we starting now?"

"If you want… Um… the first thing you should know is that if we run into them, your first thought is to get away, don't worry about me." He instructed and she hesitantly nodded. "Okay, so assuming they're all guys, where do you think is the best place to hit?"

"Between the legs?"

"Right, but you can also hit the stomach, the neck, or under their arms."

"Because I could totally reach those places." She rolled her eyes.

"Um… right…" He mentally kicked himself for not thinking about the fact she was really small. "Okay, next thing." He crouched down to her level and held out his right hand. "Punch my hand."

She nodded and complied, punching him as hard as she could. Pain shot through her fingers when they made impact with him. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" She cried and flinched, shaking her hand.

"You don't know much about this, do you?" He sighed and held up his hand, balled into a fist. "Keep your fingers as tight as you can hold them, the thumb tucked in. Got that?"

She nodded. That was simple enough to remember, so she tried to mimic his hand. "Like this?"

"Keep your thumb tucked in." He repeated and moved it from where she held it to where it should be. "You don't want it to get caught when you punch someone. That could bend it backward, which would really hurt."

"Yeah…" She cringed.

"Okay, now try again." He held out his right hand again. "Hold your arms up, don't leave yourself open." She nodded and used her arms to cover her face, then punched his hand as hard as she could. It didn't hurt like last time, but he grabbed her fist as soon as it make contact. "Now use the recoil as you pull your fist back to give your next punch more power." He said and let go so she could do what he instructed. There was definitely more force to how she punched the second time, then the third and fourth. "Arms up." She held her arms up as she continued her assault, only stopping when she started to lose her breath. "Keep going." He ordered, making her groan.

"I'm getting tired." She protested.

"You need to bring up your stamina."

"…Fine." She groaned and kept up her assault, but it wasn't as forceful as before.

"Don't slow down, Maggie."

She growled and punched as hard as she could, but missed and almost hit him in the face. He dodged her tiny fist, grabbed it and twisted her arm behind her back. "Ow! Hey!" She struggled against his grip.

"Sorry!" He let go and caught her before she could fall. "Reflexes." She just stuck her tongue out at him. "Hopefully you won't have to worry about that happening, since I'm teaching you how to get away from danger." Standing up, he stretched his legs, since he'd been crouching for so long. "Okay, next thing: kicking. You can either kick with your foot pointed or pulled back. Or you could flick it just before making impact, but we'll get to that later. Either way, same with your fist, keep it tight." He held out his hand with the palm down. "Give me your best shot. Remember, keep your arms up. Your torso is the most important thing to protect, since that's where all your organs are."

She held her arms up to her chest, and keeping his instructions in mind, tried to keep the muscles in her foot taut as she flicked it up and tried to hit his hand. She missed and lost her balance. "Try again." He said and caught her before she could fall. "This time, actually aim for my hand."

"I was! You're holding it too high, so I can't reach."

"You won't get better if you don't push yourself."

"I just started!"

"Maggie, just do it." He commanded stoically.

She grumbled and got into the stance again. She tried to focus as much as she could on stretching to reach where his hand was. Then she kicked his hand and actually hit it. "Good, again." He commanded, and she obeyed with the other foot. "Remember to use the recoil to get more power." This was easier to keep going for her, because she was wearing shoes and it didn't hurt when she kicked him. It did, however, hurt him after a while. He was tempted to switch to his metal arm, but didn't want to show it to her and risk her finding out who he was. "Okay, I'm done. You're going to break my hand."

She giggled with pride and jumped a little bit. "What's next?"

"That's enough for now; just keep working on those things."

"Aw, come on, I want to learn more!"

"One step at a time, kid." He ruffled her hair a bit. She swatted his hand away and got into her stance. He rolled his eyes and also got into a fighting stance. "Fine."

She smiled and threw a punch, but he just grabbed her fist and held it tightly, so she couldn't let go. Trying to pull away was useless, so she tried to other hand, only to have the same result. Next, she tried to kick him, but he let go of one hand only to grab her leg. Futilely, she tried to break free, and he surprised her by letting go so she stumbled back a bit before charging him again. He just put his hand out against her chest so she couldn't get any further. The difference in their sizes was big enough that all he needed to do was keep her like that at arm's length so she couldn't reach him. That was something she knew how to get out of, however. She ducked under his arm to get past his blockade, but he just picked her up by the waist and threw her over his shoulder.

"Hey!" She shouted and struggled. "Let go!"

He just shrugged and dropped her onto the couch. "I win."

"Jerk." She grunted and sat up.

He sat down next to her and ruffled her hair again. "Punk." What was it about that exchange that felt so familiar that whenever she called him a jerk, he just impulsively called her a punk in reply? He just mentally shrugged and decided not to think about it. "You're still new at fighting, so don't try to move forward too quickly; you'll only hurt yourself. Besides, I need a break. Punching and kicking are pretty basic and easy to remember, so just keep going through those drills and you'll have them down pretty quickly." She nodded and relaxed on the couch.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound was Maggie's breathing as it slowed to a normal rate from the exercise she just got. She felt the boy in some movie her mom liked, learning how to fight from a guy he didn't know very well. That got her thinking, James wouldn't talk about the guys who were chasing him, but maybe there was something she could get from him. "So…" She said after a few minutes. "What kind of movies do you like?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I lost that with the rest of my memory."

"So you don't know anything about yourself but your name?" She sat up a bit more, trying to grasp the concept.

"I'm not even too clear on that. All I remember is how to fight."

"That's messed up…" She commented.

"Yeah…" What he said sounded more like a grunt than anything else, like he just wanted to drop the conversation. Darn it! She thought she finally had something, but he doesn't even know about what he liked before he lost his memory! She mentally sighed, wondering if there was any way she could get through to him.

Just then she remembered Sam. "Hey, James…"

"Mhm…" He said, his eyes closed as he rested his head on the back of the sofa.

"I… know someone who might be able to help you. He helped my mom when she came back from the war."

He opened his eyes and looked at her suddenly. "You said your mom was dead…"

"She is, she died last year in combat, but she had a tour before it and had to go to therapy."

"And you think that would help me." He concluded.

"It's worth a shot." She said with a shrug.

He nodded, but then stretched with a sigh. "I don't know, Maggie, that kind of stuff costs money that I don't have." Oh… right… money… "But I guess it's worth an ask if you know how to find him."

"I, um… no…"

"Well, there goes that option."

Her heart fell a bit. She was doing her best to try and help James, but it just seemed like the world didn't want him to get help. Maybe he didn't want help, like he felt he didn't deserve it…

There was one option he wouldn't tell her: going to see the man he fought, his mission. He seemed to know about James' past, and certainly triggered his memories to come back, but part of him said to stay away from that man, at least for the time being. "Hey." He said to break the silence between them, "Why don't you keep working on those drills for now and I'll find us something to eat."

The prospect of food made Maggie smile and she nodded enthusiastically at his offer. The two got off the couch and put their plan into action. She got into her fighting stance and began punching at the air, staying conscious of what he told her to remember, and he started for the door. Part of him didn't want to leave her, since she was so vulnerable, but she was a tough enough kid to get out of trouble when she needed to.


End file.
